


Remnants

by orphan_account



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Foul language from a child, Gen, Might expand this story but for now it’s complete
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 00:43:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21262298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Roughly seven years after the fall of the first Sindria, and about two years after rebuilding the second, Ja’far finds himself face-to-face with remnants of Sham Lash. A child assassin to be exact. A disconcerting thought—for there to be others out there...





	Remnants

**Author's Note:**

> I’m on a roll ya’ll! This piece here was written about two years ago? More or less. I tweaked it a bit. I definitely want to expand this idea, but there aren’t many details except Masrur gets to see first hand how brutal Ja’far can be. (I’d love to tackle the half-assimilation thing, too.)

Shadows crept along walls as sunlight waned and night’s cool breeze ruffled castle curtains. Servants had gone to their beds early, whispering to one another for the next day’s festive duties. Guards on their night shift remained vigilant at their posts.

An ordinary night—if one failed to look around.

On the second floor, outside the castle library’s door, the vizier, Ja’far, stood silent. He seemed deep in thought, as he was usually known to be; but, this moment was different. With one look to the side, he said, “I admit your skill to remain undetected throughout the week, even among the Generals, is commendable. But enough of this. Come out please.”

There was a pause before the shadow in a corner—the side he was directing to—wavered. A small, dark mass landed on the floor silently. Standing upright, Ja’far realized, was a child. With clothes so worn and battered, and crudely wrapped bandages that acted like a mask—Ja’far was looking at a spitting image of his former self. Right down to the glare.  _ What has this child gone through... _

“Who have you come to kill?” Ja’far asked steadily.

The child said nothing however, but instead raised an arm from underneath their shawl and revealed a familiar blade. Red rope twined around their arm.

_ No _ , Ja’far’s blood turned cold.

A blade whizzed by his ear that he swiftly leaned away from. With one short burst of a step and quicker blades, he had the would-be assassin on the floor, pinned.

The child struggled and growled in frustration.

“I’ve had years of experience in assassination, kid. Do not resist,” Ja’far warned.

“Get the fuck off me!”

_ Oh _ , Ja’far mused,  _ now this takes me back. _

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“Fight like a man, you fucker!”

“If I did you would’ve been dead last week when you set foot onto the broken balcony downstairs.”

“Going easy on me because I’m a kid, eh?” the child spat. “Bastard! Don’t underestimate Sham Lash! I’ll fucking kill you!”

“Sham Lash,” he started, but faltered. What could this child know about that damned organization? It’s been nearly seven years after all, perhaps the child was mistaken…?

Ja’far blinked. The child had gone silent.  _ Why did— _

A sudden pull against him and he found himself at blade point. “You fucked up, geezer.”

~*~*~

“You aren’t losing your touch are you?” Sinbad asked, amusement lacing his tone as he looked at his younger friend.

Ja’far scoffed. “Oh, please. I was just surprised, Sin.”

“Surprised enough to get your cheek scratched by a child?”

“Yes. Now shut up,” the vizier rolled his eyes before turning his attention to the child; captured and tied up for interrogation. “As for you,” he started, “please do explain why you went so far as to only target me. I wasn’t lying about knowing your presence throughout the week, you know.” 

The child glowered at the two men.

Ja’far sighed, but Sinbad remained amused. Noticing, Ja’far gave him a questioning look. 

Sinbad chuckled before stepping forward, arms crossed. “Is your leader familiar with Ja’far?”

No answer.

“Ok…” he thought for a bit before continuing with, “How about this: Did your leader hope that by killing Ja’far, my best ally and friend, that I’d fall into anger and despair, and seek revenge by leaving my post?”

The child nodded.

The King of Sindria barked with laughter.

Ja’far startled. “Sin! This isn’t funny!”

“Of course it isn’t,” Sinbad reassured, “but this kid reminds me too much of you when we first met. The resemblance is striking.”

“Sin—”

“Fuck. You. Don’t you dare compare me to that freckled, piss-poor-of-an-excuse assassin who couldn’t even keep his shit together at the mention of Sham Lash!” the child roared. “He’s a traitor and will always be marked one—and  _ I’m _ the one who’s going to end this fucker’s life _ . _ ”

At this, the king gaped. Then he quickly walked out of the room. His fit of laughter waking the generals from their slumber.

Ja’far could only sigh, unamused. He looked to the child, red-faced underneath the bandages and with a sneer so sharp it’d cut the air itself. “You’re in for a long night, kid.”

“Fuck off.”

  
_ Oh, Rurumu,  _ Ja’far frowned,  _ please give me strength. _


End file.
